


Guardian Angels

by Lonliest_muffin



Series: Igniting Embers [1]
Category: Katekyou Hitman Reborn!
Genre: Accidental Baby Acquisition, BAMF Skull (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Cookies, Gen, Housewife Skull, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Implied/Referenced Rape/Non-con, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Multi, Other, Skull (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!)-centric, Skull is Baby in this case, Stress Baking, self-indulgent af
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-11-26
Updated: 2021-03-05
Packaged: 2021-03-10 02:07:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,859
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27725912
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lonliest_muffin/pseuds/Lonliest_muffin
Summary: How Cherep became Skull. And how Skull found some semblance of stability.Now all that's left to wonder... How comes Zombies love his cookies so damn much!?
Relationships: Death & Skull (Katekyou Hitman Reborn!), Jager/Bermuda von Veckenschtein, Skull & Bermuda Von Veckenschtein, Skull & Vindice, Vindice/Vindice
Series: Igniting Embers [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1922008
Comments: 20
Kudos: 186
Collections: A Collection of Beloved Inserts





	1. Falling Asleep

**Author's Note:**

> I had a rough day and wanted to post something for this khr 'verse. So here you go!  
> This is pure self indulgent Fluffy Skull charms the Vindice bs.  
> Also, none of you can convince me Bermuda isn't the Vindice's mom. 
> 
> Enjoy!

How long has it been since he'd last seen the sun? Or felt the rain on his skin? Took a breath of fresh air? Maybe just... Stood up on his own two legs?  
.... How long has it been since he was last able to rest? 

Even in the sanctity of his own mind, he isn't safe anymore. Never again, ever since he'd been dragged here.  
The moment his eyes drop closed from the constant exhaustion, sensations crawl over his skin and the bone deep, stone cold terror that shoots through him jerks him back awake immediately.  
It's probably been days since one young, lonely Cherep Zhavoronkov was last able to catch a minute of rest. 

That night, it's more of the same old.  
He'd managed to wiggle his way over to a corner of the room, pressing his back against that and keeping his eyes locked on the door.  
He can hear _Their_ voices, going off about this and that and normal things and it's such a stark contrast from the usual, that, for just a moment, he's drifting. 

Aimless. Distant. Safe. Out of reach of anything that could hurt him. Far, far away from where his body has been **stuck** for who knows how long now...

Then, the door bangs opens and his heart leaps up into his throat, smothering the scream that nearly slipped out.  
The shaking starts up again too. It's an uncontrollable, full-bodied thing and Cherep doesn't quite know how to fix that. 

Because it's one of _Them_. A regular, if he remembers right. And if memory truly does serve, this man is into knife play, tears and bruises. He already seems delighted, by just... Standing there, looking down at his shaking form. 

Chereq wants to crawl out of his skin and retch up the entirety of his organs. The sick fuck would probably get off to that too.  
And **That**. That one, indignant thought that just punches through the overwhelming layer of terror.  
That's the _spark_. 

It's the spark that sets his nerves on fire, that sends his blood boiling, that clenches his fists and grits his teeth in a hiss.  
It's what drags him over, from terror into **_Rage_**. 

And that _Rage_ ignites a **Fire**.  
A _**Flame**_ that dances under his skin, swirls around and around, spiraling out of control and it gathers at his fingertips.  
So he raises his hand, lightly pointing that anger at his tormentor. 

And for just a brief moment... There is calm. There is focus. And an odd sense of coming home. 

Then, the anger bursts forward, sparking through the air and lodging into the man's chest and Cherep is reminded, all over again, that he ought not to let people under his skin anymore.  
It's really quite too messy, when people explode, after all. 

And because it's not a quiet explosion, soon more of _Them_ rush in through the door, hollering their rude words at him, growling like some wild Beasts.  
But Skulhe knows better. No Beasts, no animals, would lower themselves to _Their_ level. No, these creatures are human, through and through.  
Simple-minded, violent, disgusting **Savages**. 

They deserved every bit of _agony_ he was able to give them. 

~~~

Stumbling out into the snow is... Something. But Cherep can't think on what it is. Not with this overpowering _stench_ of blood lingering in the air. 

He hadn't meant to do that!  
He didn't mean for things to go **that** far! 

Something warm and wet splashes up against the back of his feet and Cherep stumbles a few more steps, looking back over his shoulder and promptly tripping over his own legs. It's been a while since he'd even stood upright on his own.  
And while the cuts to the back of his ankles were healing fine, he's a bit unbalanced with the way only one of his tendons has fully healed by now. 

So he ends up on his ass in the snow, breathing in the cold, crisp air deeply and looking back at the weird yardhouse he'd apparently been stuck in for God knows how long.  
The door is open, since he didn't bother closing it, although, maybe he should've. The blood is still propagating in there, flooding the whole place and now it's beginning to make this huge pool just outside the door. 

It's getting too close to his feet again, so Cherep scooches back some more, burying his hands in the snow and attempting to scratch of the worst of the grime on his palms. Which doesn't really work all too well. 

So he's focused on wiping away this particularly disgusting, crusty patch of... Fluid, when his back bumps into something. And because absolutely nothing seems to be able to break the innocent spirit of his curiosity, he tilts his head backwards and looks up at his obstacle. 

And a mummified face stares back down at him. 

And honestly, at this point, Cherep is just so **done** with everything.  
As long as the weird ass mummy in a tophat doesn't fucking hurt him, he's absolutely up for their company.

So he blinks up at this heavily bandaged person, puts on the best smile he can muster and, very calmly, tells them. "Hi there. I'm out." 

He tips over to the side in the next moment, nearly three weeks of sleepless nights catching up to him and dragging him into an unforgiving, thankfully dreamless sleep. 

Cherep never hits the ground.

~~~~

"Why is there a nude teenager in your bed." 

"I was outside, collecting a criminal, when I found him." 

"That is no explanation. Why is he in your bed, Jager." 

"...." 

"Where do you think you are going? Explain yourself, young man."


	2. Awakening

Cherep must've been in a very deep sleep for quite a while. He's completely disoriented the moment his awareness slips back into place. But he's all cozied up in an actual bed and his body refuses to move away from the warmth and safety provided by the blanket wrapped around him. So much so, his first reaction is to snuggle deeper into it, sighing faintly and opening his eyes slowly then. 

It's an unfamiliar room, but that's to be expected. The weird mummy probably brought him someplace. But the place is clean, neatly organized and empty.  
Clearly, for whatever reason, Cherep's been left alone here. And judging by the glass of water on the nightstand, he's expected to be awake sometimes soon. Said glass is instantly emptied. Now...

Is there a damn shower in this place?  
He's still got grime and all sorts of crusty fluids all over him... That's his next goal. Find a shower and some clothes to dress up in. First, he gets out of bed and tests out his limits.

Everything seems to be healing fine...  
His tendons are back in place and... _most_ of the internal injuries have healed as well.  
Standing up still brings up all sorts of aches, but it's not any worse than he'd feel after a particularly brutal training session... 

Anyway, time to get going!  
Cherep casts a look around the room, taking in the neat, dark wood desk, the queen sized bed and it's dark blue covers, the Fluffy, black carpet and the complete lack of windows in the completely black walls... There's also three different doors. 

And curiosity grabs him instantly. Cherep tries one of them and ends up in a walk in closet.  
The selection of clothes is... Not that great. Most of it is black, largely just coats and several identical hats. Tophats, actually. Yep, definitely the top hat-mummy's room. 

Ah, well... Cherep ends up snatching up a pair of black sweatpants and unearthing a dark grey tank top.  
He might've even considered stealing one of the coats, but this place is hella warm and cozy. He won't be needing one. Probably. On second thought... He grabs one anyways. 

He tries the second door then, peeking his head out into some kind of completely black hallway. Nothingness to the left, complete darkness to the right.  
And from somewhere, there's the echo of distant screaming.

Uhm... Yeah. _No._

He tries the last door and, finally, the bathroom. He walks in, dumping his 'borrowed' clothes on the sink and checking around for some shampoo and body wash.  
He only finds stuff that's weirdly scented, but by now? Cherep would deal with anything, as long as it'd clean him up. 

~~~Vindice/Jager POV~~~

"Our guest is awake." Whoever spoke, they do not sound all that pleased. 

"I noticed." A softer voice, from somewhere, sounding much more indulgent. 

The next voice sounds from the core of them, calm, but commanding. They are dragged along into the conversation, whether they are participating or not. It's what happens, sometimes, when you share soul bonds as intertwined as theirs. "Tell me again, why did you bring a _civilian_ child here." 

A spark shots through them, from somewhere and they shudder with it, some of them tugging here and there before settling down again.  
Jager pulled away from the mass of their soul, wanting to address them as a group, standing as his own individual. They are paying attention. "The child reminded me of the past. I did not want to leave him to die." 

Someone, somewhere rumbles with warm laughter, someone else feels annoyed, and another person might have grumbled faintly. They too saw the child and were reminded of one of Jager's own.  
Jager is pulled back into their mass, pulled in a little closer, so Bermuda can address him at the core of them. "You brought this upon yourself. Take responsibility for that child. He cannot leave, if he turns out to be untrustworthy. When that is the case, take that child's blood upon your hands." 

Jager feels vaguely annoyed and they all feel the building tension. Then, someone ever so brave hisses into the conversation, completely unprompted, "Just **kiss** already." and immediately, Bermuda pushes them apart.  
There's a burning sensation rushing through them, before they are individually dumped in their rooms. One of them will be given a lecture, but who it is? They wouldn't know. 

Jager just sighs faintly, standing up from his bed and looking around. The child woke up and immediately bustled around, did he now? Already making the place his own...  
Much like the person Jager had been reminded of. He just stays put, waiting for the boy to finish his shower. His very... Thorough shower, it seems.

Jager easily waits for almost half an hour, before the shower is turned of and soft, Russian curse words fill the air. His Russian might be a little rusty, but he wouldn't be outdone this easily. " _Blyad'! Zabyl proklyatoye polotentse..._ " 

The kid forgot to get a towel, did he now...  
Jager decides to be nice, standing up and getting a towel from his wardrobe, approaching his bathroom and knocking on the door calmly.  
And the child's reaction is immediate and drastic. A quiet exhalation of breath, followed by an instant, flawless absence of presence.  
Jager cannot even sense this boy's flame! Impressive and intriguing... 

He just knocks again, keeping his voice level. "You needed a towel, did you not?" 

The presence that blooms is tentative, tiny. Reluctant, more than hesitant. But the child's voice is calm. "... Do you actually have a towel? Who even are you-? Ah, fuck-no, wait-" 

The boy then opens the bathroom door, peeking out at him with an apologetic smile already in place. Jager can see an oddly familiar emptiness in the boy's eyes, something that beaming grin can't quite cover up. "My name's Cherep. Cherep Sergeevich Zhavoronkov. What's your name, top hat-Mummy?" 

And, okay, little Cherep is a bit aggravating right of the bat. "You may call me Jager. Here."  
Being annoyed is no reason to punish a child after all. And nudity is a punishment in this context. Jager just hands him the towel.

Cherep quite literally lights up, snatches the towel and slams the door. At least, he isn't entirely impolite? "Thanks, man! Just-a second!" 

A moment later, the door snaps back open and the boy nearly stumbles into him, caught off balance for a second. It might be the ridiculously long coat that's tangling around his feet. Actually, isn't it one of Jager's spare coats?  
On top of all that, Cherep then has the audacity to pull out one of his spare hats and plop it on his own head with a big grin in place. "How do I look?" 

_This damn child..._

~~~Cherep POV~~~

Top-hat Mummy is pretty alright.  
But he sure gets fussy easily. About a lot of things.  
When he found the bed spotted in some Cherep's blood, he fussed him all the way to an infirmary and made sure he got proper medical attention. Which was _uncomfortable_.  
After that, Top-hat Mummy, Jager as he keeps pointing out, remembered that people eat food and fussed him all the way to a very... Empty kitchen.  
And when neither of them could find anything edible, Jager straight up disappeared into black smoke. 

_Huh._

Cherep stares at the empty spot where a whole guy stood just a second ago, then he takes a deep breath, closes his eyes and starts to pray.  
He _really_ does not want anything to do with whatever just happened there!  
Unfortunately, Cherep remembers that he pretty much cursed out most available deities not even a day ago. 

_Well. **Fuck.**_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every single Vindice already likes Skull, just cause he's making Jager **feel** things.
> 
> Mostly paternal concern and overprotectiveness, but it's a start.


	3. Getting the Ball rolling

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introductions and Cherep being kind of an idiot.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> HAH! You all probably thought I forgot about this story, but jokes on you! I wrote something for this again. ^w^
> 
> Please enjoy! 
> 
> **WARNING: Skull/Cherep is a traumatized brat! He has one violent flashback, but he's doing his best to deal with his trauma at his own pace!**

Cherep has experienced tension before.  
It was tension he'd felt in his fingertips, when he'd pressed his palms against his own throat. Tension and Contemplation.

There had been tension in his muscles, bonedeep almost, when he stood at the precipice of the unknown. He'd jumped, fearless, tasting freedom for the first time.

There is also a familiar tension in saddling a top a motorcycle. That tension resides at the core of him, in his ribcage, like the nervous fluttering of a bird's wings.

Tension itself... Feels like a delicate balance, struck perfectly between life and death. And Cherep is very familiar with that sensation. 

So yes, he'd experienced tension in the past. So he knows that what he feels _now?_ That isn't tension. That is downright _Caution_.

Something primal in him, that Cherep knows to be his intent, perks up and winces softly at the sight of his... New acquaintances? The guys that apparently run this place. All of them tall, all of them wrapped in black coats, all of them Top Hat-Mummies.  
Cherep feels very young before them. Not small, no, but vulnerable all the same. He still manages to smile semi brightly. "Sooooo... I'm Cherep Zhavoronkov. Who are you guys?" 

The men just.... Awkwardly remain silent for several moments. Maybe it was supposed to be creepy, but really, Cherep just thinks these guys have no idea how to socialize. One of them, Cherep's Top Hat-Mummy, Jager, from what he can recall, steps forward after the silence has truly turned awkward, radiating mild annoyance as well as fondness. "You already know me as Jager. These are my..." 

Here he very obviously hesitates, perhaps just not knowing what label to put on the relationship. Yes, Cherep can read a room. These guys are obviously really, _really_ damn close. Mister Jager ends up going with the least awkward route and it seems to fluster everyone present. "These are two of my Family. Jack and Alejandro."

Especially the Alejandro person seems stunned by Mister Jager's words. They... He? Almost seems to stumble over the words, so thoroughly awkward that Cherep can't help but think he's cute. "You consider us... Family?" 

Mister Jager turns slightly to address his... Comrade? Brother? Giving the other a quiet, but firm nod. And, dear God, that silent confirmation actually seems to break both, Mister Alejandro and the Jack Person. They kind of huddle together against one another, shoulder to shoulder, bowing their head down a bit. Cherep can't observe more, since Mister Jager shifts into his view then, in an incredibly non-subtle way of taking Cherep's attention off of his Family. "There are more of us, but most of them are currently... Occupied." 

.... Okay. That... Deliberate pause is a little more than concerning, but Cherep throws caution to the wind at that point. These guys are 100% harmless. Just look at them! _They're cute!_ "That's fine. I can meet the rest of your family later, right? You..."

Cherep's brain kind of slows down there and a little crinkle rises to his brow. When did his stomach start dissolving itself? How long has it been since he had a meal that wasn't largely made up of human... bodily fluids..?  
...Cherep doesn't really want the answer to that question. "First. Food."

His hosts immediately bristle up at his tone of voice, so Cherep makes sure to smooth over any demanding tone, making himself sound just a fraction of how miserable he truly feels. He manages to sound small and a little choked up from embarrassment. And yeah, he didn't intent for his voice to go full on whispery, but...  
_That's Trauma, baby._ "I'm... hungry." 

It felt a bit like his insides lurched violently the moment the words passed his lips, but aside from something that sounds a bit like a cut-off whimper, Cherep manages to keep his stuff together.  
Jager immediately stops being quite so bristly, instead, turning to his newly christened Family, who are seemingly still reeling from that little revelation. A secret smile quirks at Cherep's lips. "That's right. To our knowledge, this child hasn't eaten in days. He is rather malnourished, so we ought to arrange something rich in nutrients." 

Mister Alejandro clams up then, fidgeting in place faintly, but the other one, Mister Jack, speaks up, apparently more familiar and comfortable with this subject. "Peanut-Butter paste and protein bars could help. I also suggest some fruits and a meal with lots of vegetables and... Do you eat meat, boy?" 

Cherep crinkles his eyebrows a bit again, pursing his lips and... The petulant snark kind of... slips out on accident. His name isn't fucking _boy_? _Who the heck calls people that anymore these days?_ "I prefer fish, but I'm fine with any meat, Mister Top Hat-Mummy. As long as I get something into me. I'm starving..." 

All three men pause then, seemingly staring at him, faintly radiating murderous intent. And Cherep has officially abandoned any and all fear of these people. He's never claimed to have a very developed sense of self-preservation.  
Cherep makes big eyes at them, poking out his lower lip, before pointedly repeating his earlier statement. " _My name is Cherep Zhavoronkov._ I hope we'll get along?" 

And... Yeah... Maybe he deserved to get bonked over the head for that... At least, it didn't hurt much. 

:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:-:

It's been a few weeks since that day and Cherep has found his place in this... Apparent prison. It's the kitchen. He spends most of his time just... Cooking and baking. It's... Actually kinda therapeutic.  
He's also met a few more of Mister Jager's Family by now. Bit by bit, they crept out of the woodwork when they found the time to come meet Cherep, mostly while he was bustling around the kitchen. All in all, there are eight of them.

Mister Jack and Mister Alejandro are like... Really fun, goofy uncles once you get past their... Issues. Which would be the creepy puppets in case of Mister Alejandro and the... Very weird... God-complex... _thing_ Mister Jack's got going on.  
Once Cherep got over the creep factor of it all, the puppets actually... Turned out to be kind of cute? Mister Alejandro quite enjoys making them dance a little jig, much to Cherep's endless amusement.

Mister Jack on the other hand took a bit longer to get used to. He occasionally, and very randomly, goes off on tangents about Cherep being worthy of all sorts of things?  
It took him a while to realize that... Mister Jack just really has no idea how to compliment someone without also pointing out that he's the one complimenting them? And since the man has an astonishing self esteem, he seems a bit self obsessed. By now, Cherep knows he means well. 

Then there's this big Teddy bear of a man named Mister Pino, and his, admittedly slightly creepy, but really friendly and cuddly Partner Mister Gia. Those two always visit him together, mostly to circumvent the issue of Mister Pino's limited speech. Mister Gia is always quite adamant to translate his Parther's words. They are both quite philosophical, from what Cherep understands of their hour-long rants about God's and Flames and the universe and whatever...  
Cherep also strongly suspects that, what with them literally feeding each other the snacks he gives them, they might be... Romantically involved? But he doesn't have concrete evidence. Yet. 

There are also Mister Diego and Miss Khalida. They're... Much more private. And still really cautious of revealing any information about themselves to Cherep. Which is understandable. One of the first times they came to visit him, Cherep kind of... Messed up and spilled hot soup on Mister Diego. And when he went to wipe up his mess, he kind of... Got a peek beneath his bandages? And whatever happened to these poor people... Is obviously a matter they will not discuss with him. Miss Khalida and Mister Diego immediately warped away the moment they realised what had happened. And they... Haven't really stayed for longer visit after that. 

Last, but not least, Mister Jager is, perhaps unsurprisingly, the most invested in Cherep's existence and his continued stay with them. He's a fairly level-headed dude, with a sweet-tooth the size of a damn mountain. Cherep found that out when he first tried baking cookies and all of them disappeared right under his nose. Mister Jager was the only one with crumbs on his bandages, yet he vehemently denied his crimes.  
But when Cherep isn't pouting at his guard and Mister Jager isn't being a little shit, they've found that they actually like to spend quiet evenings enjoying each other's company. 

Things are weird and sometimes feel dangerous, but... Cherep's adapted to it all with surprising ease. Sometimes he's a little shit and sometimes he get bonked on the head for his crimes, but... Life moves on, you know? Maybe it's not quite forgive and forget with these people, but they've accepted his presence. So he will accept their judgment.

And anyways, he spends most of his days by his lonesome. His hosts rarely have the time to come see him, even though by now some of them really try to make time for him.  
They have important work to do, so Cherep spends most of his days cooking elaborate meals for himself and simply going to bed afterwards. 

Now... You might recall that Cherep mentioned that there are eight people in Mister Jager's Family. And he's already met Mister Jager, Mister Alejandro, Mister Jack, Mister Pino, Mister Gia, Mister Diego and Miss Khalida. That's seven people in total.  
Cherep simply has not yet had the pleasure to meet the mysterious, elusive eighth Family member. But everyone has swooned about him at least once. Most of them, multiple times.

_Mister Bermuda van Veckenstein._

The, to Cherep, unknown, but very obvious, Leader of this whole Family-business. Mister Jager is the most notorious for going on and on about how amazing Mister Bermuda truly is. The others are also very zealous fans, but Cherep has learned to just let them go on until they've run out of fuel.  
In the end, and with the bribe of some amazing alcoholic sweets, Mister Jager was the one to mention Mister Bermuda's... Disfigurement. 

Apparently, their grown Leader has the appearance of a two year old? Cherep doesn't quite get how that happened, cause Mister Jager clammed up when he asked how that came to be. Then he whisked away all the sweets and Cherep hasn't seen him since.  
Admittedly, all of that only just happened yesterday, but _still_. 

He grumbles his bad mood into his cake batter, huffing every now and then, in annoyance as well as from the physically exertion of hand-mixing the darn thing. At first, he's too annoyed to acknowledge it when a presence appears behind him, but... They don't leave and eventually, his patience runs dry.  
The presence feels oddly familiar, so Cherep goes with his first guess. "I'm not up for puppet shows, Mister Alejandro..." 

The voice that replies is completely unfamiliar and a cold shiver rushes up his spine. "Fascinating..."  
Cherep whirls around instantly, wielding his whisk as a weapon and backing himself against the kitchen counter.

_**FUCK. He's trapped-he can't escape like this-He's CORNERED AND THEY'LL TEAR HIM OPEN-!** _

Then... His eyes kind of drop down and the fight leaves him a little. This person is unfamiliar, yes, but logic dictates that this has to be Mister Bermuda. A Top Hat-Mummy through and through, even if he doesn't even reach up to Cherep's knees, height-wise.  
Surprisingly enough, Mister Bermuda is the most polite out of all Top Hat-Mummies. He actually sounds genuinely remorseful. "Ah. I didn't mean to startle you. My apologies." 

The rest of the fight leaves Cherep and he takes several deep breaths, his eyes sweeping back and forth across the kitchen of their own accord. Still searching for a threat that just isn't there. Makes him a little dizzy... "It's... It's fine." 

Mister Bermuda is sitting on the kitchen table, cross-legged and he tilts his head mildly in greeting. He's something to focus on, something to just... Take Cherep back to the present reality. So he focuses. "My name is Bermuda van Veckenstein. My charges have told me quite a bit about you, Cherep Sergeevich Zhavoronkov." 

Cherep nods slowly, before remembering his manners bit by bit. His heart is still racing and his hands are beginning to shake rather harshly, so he presses them into the kitchen counter behind himself.  
It's just the adrenaline bleeding out of his body. He simply got spooked. Nothing more. _He's fine._ "Mhm. Mister Jager told me about you too." 

Mister Bermuda nods faintly, remaining quiet for a moment, before seemingly making eye contact with Cherep. How they all do that with bandages in the way, Cherep may never know. "He informed me that you've expressed interest regarding my... Condition." 

Cherep is still reeling from the earlier spook, so all he really manages as a reply, is to just blurt out whatever immediately comes to mind. His mouth actually has no filter. It's a damn miracle he's survived so far.  
_Quite literally, considering the very fresh memories on his mind of **HANDS-digging into his flesh-ripping into him-trying to tear him piece from piece while he screams and cries-**_

.... The words bubble out of him, uncoordinated and unclear. "Yeah-Like-How's a full grown man also kid sized? Hug sized? Mister Jack said you were hug sized. I didn't-I don't-what? He was serious? You are so damn cute. No wonder Mister Jager wants to -" 

He slams a hand over his mouth at that point, his intent violently urging him to not just reveal one of his friend's secrets like that. The action was instinctual and while a part of him preens and purrs from it, another part of him whithers a bit and violently twists in his chest. It takes Cherep several moment to soothe and pat down both sensations, to something much more manageable. 

All the while, Mister Bermuda watches him with a sort of detached interest. He feels a bit like he's strapped down, for others to admire again, but.... This doesn't feel nearly as cruel. "Fascinating. Cherep, have you ever heard of Dying Will Flames?" 

He genuinely hasn't, at that point. You see, the Clan's teachings focus not of the Fire itself, but on it's effects on the world around it. On Propagation, Harmony, Tranquility, Annihilation and the like... Cherep was raised on teachings of the differences between instincts and intent.  
Not that he can't logically deduce what Mister Bermuda means. His instincts did just kind of flaunt themselves to the world. Anyone even mildly intent aware would've noticed that display. But.... He genuinely doesn't know. "... Not really? It's.... The Cloud Fire, right? Like... This thing?" 

To demonstrate, and because he is kind of an idiot, Cherep ignites his intent at his fingertips, bathing the kitchen in an overpowering purple glow. It drips from his hand, a viscous, toxic substance, sizzling out in the air before it even touches the ground. Mister Bermuda observes all this in silence for a few moments, before he manages to speak. For some reason, he sounds choked up. "That is... What I meant. Yes." 

Cherep let's his intent fizzle out, tilting his head mildly. He feels a little worried for Mister Bermuda. If he could've seen his skin, Cherep has the distinct impression Mister Bermuda would be as pale as a ghost right now. His voice is soft, tentative. Had he done something wrong? "I don't... I've never heard of Dying Will Flames before... Would you... Explain?" 

Mister Bermuda stares at him for a few, agonizing seconds, before he faintly clears his throat. "Turn off the oven and take a seat, Cherep. We have things to discuss." 

.... What has he gotten himself into..?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *stands on a stage, pelting people with character traits* You get a personality and you get a personality and everybody gets a darn name!
> 
> In Canon, there's two Vindice present in the Rainbow Battle and we never learn their names.  
>  _I disagree._
> 
> The name Khalida has been yoinked from another story in this series! It was suggested as an Alias for our Cinnamon Cloud, but wasn't chosen in the random draw.  
> So now the only female Vindice we know of has been named!
> 
> Diego was just a random name tho. I kinda like it still~
> 
> Also! Catch me beating yall over the head with the fact that this boy is way too powerful for his own darn naive good. 
> 
> (What's the hottest substance currently accessible to mankind? Probably some kind of plasma? I wonder what just dripped from Skully's hand...)

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you for reading!
> 
> Kudos and comments keep my stories alive! 🙏❤️☁️☁️


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